


Lithic paths

by Aaren



Series: Family vacations! [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Bears, Being a savage little sh_ as a form of affection, Brotherly Bonding, Dick Grayson's frankly alarming lack of self preservation instinct, Family taking care of each other, Fluff and Angst, Food Issues, Gen, Humour, Ice-cream - freeform, Jason Todd is a Good Big Brother, Kinda, Shared Trauma, backpacking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 09:50:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14850506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaren/pseuds/Aaren
Summary: Sometimes, being a good brother meant listening to your sibling's troubles and offering comfort afterwards as they bared their souls to you.Sometimes though,  it meant dragging them kicking and screaming through the mud and stopping ill-advised bear adoptions from being a thing.––––––Jason and Damian backpacking in Canada.





	Lithic paths

**Author's Note:**

> So. I've had the shittiest last five days. They were really, really awful. Thus, I decided to write fluff to make me feel better. 
> 
> I call this one "Let Jason and Damian be happy 2k18 ” 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it ! I also hope you have a nicer week than I do! ^^

If he were to be perfectly honest with himself, in all the years since he'd came back Jason never once thought he'd one day find himself in this situation. 

Then again, that could be said for a lot of things that had happened to him recently. 

He'd never once thought that he'd actually reconcile with his family. He'd never once thought they actually cared. Never thought he'd be on good enough terms with them again to spend some time in the cave once in a while. Nor did he ever think about stea- _borrowing_ maybe that one was a lie. Maybe. ) and going to investigate a certain Brat's conspicuous absence, when said Brat was supposed to be with the rag-tag team that kindly let him entertain the belief he was leading them. 

He had certainly never thought he'd one day find himself in the Canadian Rockies, the smouldering remains of the Batwing tainting the beautiful scenery around him.

Oops. 

Maybe Bruce wouldn’t notice if he carefully replaced it. He still had enough money from his time as a crime lord to buy the necessary parts. 

And maybe Lex Luthor would suddenly take up hula-hooping and forget all about Superman.

He swore as he nearly twisted his ankle on the slippery path. 

He had to get out of the storm. 

(He was going to have some serious words with the Brat. There was going to be shouting. He'd even place some well crafted sentences about responsibility and not lying to family about your whereabouts. Jason was going to adult. That was the kind of length Damian had pushed him to. ) 

Luckily, he wasn’t too high up in the mountains. Storms could be deadly anywhere, but mountains were particularly dangerous. Damian had better have found some sort of shelter, because if Jason had to drag his drenched ass from underneath a mudslide, he was never letting him out of the manor unsupervised ever again. 

He'd just have to tell Alfred about this particular little adventure.

Because that was the kicker wasn’t it ? Despite being the most estranged member of the entire family, Jason was the only one who actually knew the Brat wasn’t with the Titans. The only one who'd noticed. 

It certainly wasn’t helping his current mood. 

Sweeping his soaked hair away from his face, he glared through the downpour at the two little blinking dots on his phone. The red one was only about a hundred meters away from the little green one. Grumbling, he slapped a branch out of his path, getting sprayed by even more water and a few leaves for his troubles. 

Wonderful. At the rate he was going he'd have enough fresh water on him to fill a small swimming pool. He'd just have to squeeze his shirt over some rocks. No death by dehydration in their future. 

Drowning seemed to be getting more likely by the second. He'd have experience in both ends of the spectrum at least. 

Jason was also pretty sure he was dragging half the mountain with him on his boots. Great if he wanted a thigh workout. Not so great for finding annoying little shits who didn’t tell anyone where they had gone and then went and lost themselves in the middle of Bumfuck, Canada. 

A clump of leaves gave way under the heavy rain's assault and splashed down on his head. 

Lovely. 

He stomped the final few steps to the cliff where Damian was supposed to be. 

Okay. Either the Brat had lost his tracker or there was a cave somewhere between here and the cliff's top. 

Climbing wet rocks in the dark. Just the way he had wanted to spend his Friday night. 

Not like it was extremely slippery and dangerous or anything. 

At least Damian had managed to find shelter. He hoped.

Making sure his grappling gun was in working condition and easily available didn’t take long. He should probably have brought his helmet. Head protection would have been a definite plus, ever since the emergency landing. 

The climb was tricky, but years of navigating Gotham's rooftops in any weather greatly facilitated it. His muscles burned pleasantly as he hissed himself up again and again, the physical activity quickly clearing his mind. 

He was almost disappointed to reach a ledge. Almost. It seemed to be leading into a cave of some sort, though, so he wasn’t going to complain too much.

Allowing himself a second to breathe, Jason took his flashlight from his utility belt and went to light it. 

Or would have had a machete not suddenly been pointed at his throat. He sighed. In annoyance. 

“Damian.” 

The machete lowered. 

“Todd?” 

“No, I'm goddamned Santa Claus. What do you think. ” 

It was fully lowered and packed away now.

“You do share both his stoutness and his propensity to wear red.” 

Jason calmly reminded himself that throwing the kid out of the cave's mouth was counterproductive. He crossed his arms to stifle the tail end of the urge. 

“The only reason I'm letting this one pass is because you're going to explain to me _right now_ what the hell you think you're doing. ” 

Damian looked at him for a second, before turning on his heels and walking further down to cave, to a small backpack. He lit a lantern up.

“ My activities are no concern of yours.”

“They are when I spend half my Friday night trudging through mud to save your ass. ” 

“I do not require saving. And I certainly did not ask you to come.” 

“Because I'm obviously going to let a twelve years old fuck off in the wilderness all alone. ” 

Damian's shoulders stiffened. His eyes darted to the cave’s entrance.

“Did Fath–” He cut himself off abruptly. 

“ Nope. Just me. ” 

The kid visibly deflated in relief. Jason was officially worried. 

“So... Want to tell me what you're doing here?” 

Damian scowled. 

“No.”

“You’re right. I should call Dick and ask him directly.”

He tensed back up. Jason hid his smirk and took out his phone. Staring down at his brother, he began scrolling down his contact list. 

He pressed down on the screen and slowly raised the phone to his ear. To his credit, Damian waited until the third ring before shouting.

“Stop!” 

Gotcha. 

He raised a challenging eyebrow, phone still ringing away. 

“I will explain.” 

He hung up (the call having been to one of his other burners. Not that the kid needed to know that.) and motioned for Damian to continue. 

“I am perfecting my training.” He said stiffly.

“Any particular reason it couldn’t happen in Gotham?”

“When training to become Batman, Father travelled the world. As his one blood son, I am attempting to follow in his footsteps. ” 

Not fucked up at all then. Great.. 

“Okay, two obvious flaws here. First, B was way older than you at the time. Second, I'm pretty sure if you wanted to train, you could either ask him or find a teacher. Not isolate yourself in a cave.” 

The answer was delivered in a cold, empty voice.

“I am testing myself.”

An awful suspicion began creeping in the back of Jason's mind. 

“Testing what? You're way better than Bruce ever was at your age.” 

A startled but pleased look made its way on Damian's face. He shook it off quickly, once again fiddling with his pack.

“Evidently. I was trained from a young age–“

“You’re still at a young age.” He was silenced with a glare. 

“–but I must train more if I am to improve even further.” 

Translation: something bad had happened, nobody had talked to the kid about it and Jason was stuck with the clean-up, as usual. 

Mr Incredible was on to something in that intro scene. Superheroing truly was just like being a maid. 

He walked closer to Damian and sat down with a sigh, putting his back to the wall. 

“While I'm all for bettering oneself and all that bullshit, what brought this on? ” 

The kid stared resolutely ahead, not even sparing Jason a glance. 

“Nothing. ”

“Come on, Brat. You're not usually one to doubt yourself.” 

Indignantly “ I am not _doubting myself_. ” 

Jason mustered up his best sarcastic tone. 

“Right. ” Okay so a different approach would probably work best in this case. “So, what does your 'special training ' consist of, then? ”

Damian sat down next to him, and drew up his knees, circling his arms around them. 

“While I appreciate Pennyworth’s efforts in maintaining our family alive, his influence rendered me soft. I am simply using some of the League’s methods to rectify the situation before it is too late. ”

Damnit, but sometimes he hated being right. This was not okay. This was in fact about one of the furthest things from okay Jason could imagine.

“Please tell me that doesn’t mean what I think it means. ” He growled.

“That depends entirely on what your feeble brain can come up with.” Even the retort was half-hearted. The arms around his knees visibly tightened.

“Damian. When was the last time you ate something? ” The League's training methods were fucked up on a good day. They didn’t believe in letting hunger or exhaustion be distractions in battle, so they trained people out of it. Extensively. 

Oh, they fed people and allowed them to rest. Once said people had passed the test proving they could do without. Afterwards it was all about proper feeding and sleeping habits to better the physical performances. 

Then once every few months, they tested their operatives again. 

Considering his upbringing, Jason did really well in those tests.

Considering his upbringing, he hated the very thought of Damian or anyone else going through that. 

And that was not even touching the pain and temperature tolerance issues.

“ Like I said, I've grown weak to distractions. The situation must be remedied.” 

Jason swallowed a wave a fury back down and carefully controlled his voice before asking. 

“And who were you expecting to train against, exactly? ”

“No one. Fighting isn’t the issue. ” 

“So you came here to what ? Escape Alfred's notice ?” 

Furious green eyes bore into his. 

“I am not in the habit of running from my mistakes, _Todd_ ” The last word was spit out like it was coated in venom. “I only seek to correct them.”

So the kid did blame himself for something. 

“If you must know, I came here to train my speed and reflexes without having my intentions questioned. I should have known better than to hope I would be freed of idiocy for a few weeks, however.”

If he wanted persuade Damian to eat something, he had to find the heart of the issue and crush it. As soon as possible. He was really glad he'd listened to his instincts, now. 

“Whatever you think you did, there is a better solution than starving yourself. ”

There was a short and bitter laugh. The sound made Jason feel vaguely sick.

“I did not _do_ anything. That is precisely the issue at hand. ” The arms tightened again, hands whitening in the dim lighting of the small lantern. Damian's voice became clipped and professional, like he was giving a report. “ A week ago, I neglected to eat lunch and dinner before patrol. As a result, my performances in the field became sub-optimal, forcing Nightwing to intervene. ” 

His back straightened, voice becoming even more monotonous. The League didn’t usually appreciate mistakes very much. Jason did not say anything, waiting for the kid to finish talking.

“ We came across a bank robbery. They were heavily armed. I did not react in time. In an ill-advised attempt to protect me, Grayson took a bullet to the arm and temporarily went down. The wound was superficial. ”

There was a beat of silence between them, during which only the sound of their breathing could be heard. 

Jason took a deep breath. These kind of talks were not his forte.

“ Dick's an adult. He made his choice to protect you and I'd bet all of Bruce’s money that he doesn’t regret it or blame you for anything.”

Damian looked even more distraught.

“ That is precisely the crux of the matter. Grayson cannot be trusted to watch over himself whenever I'm compromised. Therefore, I shall not allow myself to be compromised anymore. ” 

Jesus, were guilt complexes genetic or something?

“ You did not _allow_ anything. Mistakes happen. ”

“ It does not qualify as a mistake if it is a reoccurring pattern.” 

“What do you mean ?” 

“ I failed to protect us both from the Heretic. Grayson died in my absence.” 

“Damian. Dick’s death was not your fault. ”

Damian looked at him, something brittle flickering in his eyes. 

“Was it not? All of my efforts were for naught. And that is not even taking into account all the times he tried to protect me at his own expense.”

How could someone look so young and sound so old and tired at the same time ?

“Listen. Dick loves you. A lot. And sure, he can be a dumbass sometimes. But he can make his own damn decisions. And those are not on you. Never.” Should he hug the brat ? Damnit, he wasn’t supposed to be the one that handled the emotional talks. This was _not_ his area of expertise. “ You're a pain in the ass about ninety percent of the time, sure, but you're good at what we do. Bad nights happen. Mistakes happen. The best you can do for Dick is try to protect yourself. And you’ve both got a whole lot of people caring after your well being and able to help if things go sour. Do you really think he would be happy with you starving yourself because he got hurt? ” 

Damian did not answer, but did not refute anything Jason had said either. He took it as a win. 

“And, as much as saying it horrifies me, your dad is actually a competent person. Mostly. About training anyways.”

He ruffled through the contents of his utility belt and dug out a cereal bar, then held it in front of the kid's face. 

Damian accepted it without a word and started nibbling on it. Jason slowly exhaled. 

“Okay. Good. I have another three of those. We'll find you a proper meal tomorrow.” 

He stood up and shrugged off his wet jacket and t-shirt. He then went to search the backpack. He hadn’t had the time to put one together in the plane, what with the his emergency landing and the wanting to find the kid as soon as possible in the storm. 

“You got a blanket in this thing ? ” 

Damian hummed, a pensive look on his face. Jason crowed in victory as he found one and wrapped it around himself.

“How did you know to find me? ”

He smirked at the smaller form from where he was snuggled in the blanket. Finally dry and warm. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know? ” 

Truth was, the key to being on the run from Batman and Robin ? Knowing where they were. And Robin was much easier to place a tracker on than Batman. Well, if you knew his identity and were moderately trusted. Good luck trying to place one in the field. 

Jason had just never broken the habit. Having two different sets of trackers could be useful sometimes. 

And while the Brat obviously knew to ditch the ones in his suit and shoes, there was not much he could do about tiny, near invisible, ones on his grappling gun.

He was pretty sure Bruce and Alfred knew. 

Hell, they probably approved. 

When he'd seen Damian's equipment taking a hike across the border, he hadn’t thought much of it at first. It was mostly none of his business what the rest of the Bats spent their time doing. 

But then, he had had a very _interesting_ conversation with Dick. One where the other man started gushing about the Brat and the Teen Titans. He'd hummed in all the appropriate places, told Dick to fuck off a few times and had hung up. 

The Titans weren’t anywhere near Canada and hadn’t seen Damian in a month or two. Kori had explicitly told him to “Greet your adorable sibling for me.” not two days before. 

She definitely wasn’t talking about Dick. 

Jason could admit to being nosy. One did not survive prolonged exposure to the Batman without picking up a thing or two. 

He could also admit to loving potential blackmail material. The matter had clearly required further investigation. So he had made use of all the resources normally unavailable to him and borrowed the Batplane. If Bruce didn’t want him using it, he shouldn’t have left it so easily accessible in the Cave. 

Then the storm had hit, and the situation had become a bit more worrying. 

The kid still looked miserable. He had to do something about it. All the brooding was too eerily reminiscent of Bruce.

He waited for Damian to lie down before flopping across him, ignoring the indignant squeak of protest the action produced. 

“Get off me, you oaf! ” 

“No way. You'll just sneak off while I'm asleep. ” 

“ And slowly suffocating me under your porcine body is the only solution you could come up with?”

For that comment, Jason made himself as heavy as possible, crushing Damian between his back and the ground. 

“Todd!”

He snorted. 

“What are you gonna do ? Stab me ? ” 

“Do not tempt me. ” 

“I just trudged five miles through mud for your sorry ass. I ain’t getting up 'til morning. Deal with it. ” 

Damian managed to push him away and crawl out from under him. Jason let him. He looked more like his usual self. 

There was a sniff of annoyance. 

“Running now would be idiotic. ” 

“Glad we agree on something. ” 

“Do not get used to it.”

They both settled back down, trying to find a comfortable way to sleep. There were a few minutes of silence. 

“Todd ?” 

“Mrgh? ” 

“Do you intend to tell Grayson about this ? ”

A yawn.

“Depends. Are you going to do it again? ” 

“I... I'll talk about training more with Father. ” 

“Good. Then no. ” 

There were another few long minutes of silence. Jason was slowly drifting to sleep, when a whisper rang out through the cave.

“Thank you, Todd.”

Sometimes the kid could be alright.

 

–––––––

 

“ _–off on a Hero's journey. Out where adventure lies_ “

Urgh. No.

“ _An ego of massive size. And a face most chicks have a thing about_ ”

No. 

He was tired and comfy. Dick could call back later.

“ _–off on a Hero’s journey, a champion through and through. More or less._ ”

Why. Wouldn’t. The. Damned. Phone. Stop. Ringing. 

He flung a hand out and blindly searched for it. 

“ 'Lo? ” He grumbled.

” Jay!” a bright voice chirped out. 

Urgh. It was too early for Dick's attitude to be a thing. He cuddled closer to his warm pillow and answered. 

“What, Dickhead? ”

Wait, he was in the wilderness with Damian, he _wasn'tsupposedtohaveapillow_.

His eyes flew open. 

Yup, that was Damian. He was cuddling the Demon Brat. That was cuddling him right back. Oh, god. 

His brain suffered from a momentary complete system shutdown.

“ I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch with me ? I’m in Gotham for a few days. ” 

How could he extricate himself from this situation without loosing life, limb or dignity? 

He began slowly crawling away, trying dislodge Damian's arm. 

“Eeer, I can't. I'm not in Gotham.” 

“You’re not?” Was there actual disappointment in Dick's voice ? “Oh. ” 

The motion had the kid waking. They stared at each other in horror for a second before springing apart.

Before Jason could say something, however, Dick continued, voice bright again. 

“Well, where are you then? Why are you whispering and can I help with whatever's going on ? ”

“I’m with Damian.” 

The kid's head whirled right back towards Jason, eyes widened.

“If you don’t wanna tell me, fine. ” He was pretty sure the other man was pouting

Jason said nothing. He could hear Dick tapping away at a computer for a few seconds.

“He's with the Titans.” 

“Because nobody ever ditched their tracker before.”

A pause.

“Fair point.”

He tried not to sound too smug. Really, he did. 

“Say hi to our adoring older Bother, Brat. ”

Damian glared at him for a second before uttering a very serious “Grayson” into the phone Jason had temporarily pressed on his ear.

He could vaguely hear Dick respond “Dami?” before he snatched the phone back.

“Told ya.”

“You’re actually with him? ” 

There was no need to sound _that_ incredulous.

“ Yup.” 

“What are you two doing ? ” 

Nor _that_ suspicious. 

Jason gazed down. 

Damn. The kid had perfected the puppy dog eyes. 

If the puppy was a rabid Rottweiler that promised you instant throat tearing if you dared to blab on him. 

Still kinda cute. It was half-pleading and very effective. And he wasn’t completely heartless.

“We’re–” What was a normal activity to do with a twelve years old ? “–getting ice-cream.” 

On the phone, Dick deadpanned. 

“Ice-cream.” 

“Yep.” 

There were a few clicking sounds. 

“On a mountain. In a Canadian national Park.” 

Jason nodded, very seriously. Damian looked about ready to try and snatch the phone back, so he used his height to his advantage and smashed his palm on his little brother face, keeping him away with his extended arm. 

“Kid wanted some Rocky Road. ”

“ _Jason_.” 

“ What can I say? Go big or go home, right ? ”

He smirked. He could just imagine the way Dick was pinching the bridge of his nose right now. 

“Right.” There was the Dick Grayson Big Inhale of Patience (Tm). He was pretty sure it was a coping mechanism that dated back from his years as Robin. “When will you be done... getting ice-cream, then ? ” 

Jason thought about it for a good minute. They could make it back to the Batplane’s remains in about an hour or two. He was pretty sure it was unrecoverable, though, so they'd have to empty it and destroy what they could. It would maybe take half a day. From there, they'd have to hike down the mountain. Depending on the damage the storm had inflicted to the mountain paths, that could take a while. Then they'd have to find a city with an airport and fly back to Gotham. 

“Four days to a week ? At the most? ” 

“Jason Peter Todd–”

Oh, whoops, would you look at that. His thumb had slipped and hung up the phone. So sad. What a terrible accident. 

He put it on silent and back in his pocket and looked at Damian, finally taking his hand away from the squirming kid’s face. That his wrist wasn’t broken proved the tiny ex-assassin's good mood.

“You owe me one.” 

“You are the most abysmal liar I've ever had the displeasure of meeting, Todd.” 

The corner of the kid's mouth was slightly raised, though.

“Love you too, squirt. ” 

A scoff was his only answer. Jason smiled.

They started preparing for their trek to the downed plane. 

 

–––––––

 

If there was an advantage to stealing the Batplane, despite eventual future consequences, was that Batman was always prepared for any eventuality. So his plane was fully equipped as such. 

They filled two bags with what they'd need for the trek down the mountain and salvaged what they could from the plane. Then they used the autodestruct. There was no need to leave BatTech in the wild for anyone to find.

Luckily, the drenched state of their environment kept any fire from starting. 

If Jason was being totally honest, blowing the plane up was cathartic. 

Judging by the gleam in Damian’s eyes, he wasn’t the only one that enjoyed watching it go up in smoke. 

Then they started walking. If Damian was to be believed, there were a day's trek away from a small town where they could catch a train to the airport. 

Well, they could, if they arrived in town before Sunday 2.30 pm. 

Otherwise they’d be stuck for two more days. He'd probably have to call Dick back. Jason grimaced at the thought. 

So, he let Damian take point and decide their path. He was the one who'd actually hiked here after all. 

Their trek was complicated by fallen trees, unstable rocks and mudslides. They sometimes had to take large detours when the obstacles were too big or too dangerous to climb. 

They could probably have made it. They were two excellently trained vigilante and they had their grappling guns. Climbing was doable. Jason just didn’t want to risk Damian breaking an ankle. Dick would kill him. 

And he felt kinda bad about hanging up on the other man like that when his first offer was genuine. 

Not too much, though. Dick Grayson had a lot to atone for. 

Then again so did Jason. 

 

–––––––

 

They stopped around midday, near a small river that emptied in a pond. 

On the plus side, plenty of fresh water to purify. 

On the downside.... Mosquitoes. So many mosquitoes. 

Next time he saw Bruce, he'd tell him to replace the shark repellent in the plane with mosquito repellent. Replacing was one of the man's strong points. It shouldn’t be a problem.

Jason scowled as he swatted an insect away from his hand. 

The Brat looked thoroughly unaffected. Mosquitoes probably rated under an Al-Ghul's notice. 

He scowled harder. 

Damian threw a small package at him, not looking up from where he was rooting through his bag. Jason caught it by reflex and opened it. 

Lemongrass? 

The kid was officially his new favourite person. 

He crushed a few leaves, rubbed them on his hands and neck and went to purify water. 

While he waited for the chemicals to take effect, he started working on their meal. 

Thankfully, Alfred was –as always – a life saver and had packed vegetarian emergency rations in the plane. 

Finding enough calories-heavy substitutes in the wild would have been a pain. They'd have managed, but it would have been time consuming. 

And no way was he letting Damian skip another meal. 

They ate in comfortable silence. Before long, they were washing their cutlery and packing everything away. 

They started walking again. Jason was the one to break the silence.

“Why here of all places ? ” 

“I threw a batarang at a map. ” 

He barked a laugh. 

“Seriously? ” 

“I needed to be unpredictable. ” 

“Good job on that one. I never would have gues–” 

He froze. 

A big dark shape was looking at them from behind a berry bush. 

Shit. 

He grabbed Damian's shoulder and pulled him behind his back. 

Okay, time to slowly walk backwards and pray that this particular bear didn’t have any cub nearby. 

They had both fought so much worse. 

Didn’t mean it wasn't dangerous. 

Plus, Jason didn’t want to have to kill a bear. 

Judging by the “Must-pet-the-fluffies” look he had going on, Damian didn’t either. 

Which, no. He refused to smuggle a bear through the border and have to be the one to explain to Bruce how his son had acquired yet another pet. 

“Damian, no. ” He whispered. 

He continued slowly walking backwards, pulling his younger brother with him. The bear seeming content to simply watch them go. 

Only once they were a sufficient distance away, did he release Damian’s wrist. He looked pissed.

“You should have let me handle it.” 

“And let things either end in a bloodbath or in you having a new pet bear? No, thanks. ” 

He got a scowl in answer. 

“I could have subdued it.” 

Having seen him in action, Jason could believe that. 

“Maybe. But now you don’t have to. ” He paused for a second before continuing under his breath. “And I get to sleep at night for the next few days. ” 

“Scared, Todd?” 

“Not of the bear.” 

The fact that Damian looked slightly pleased by that probably should have been concerning. 

Jason tiredly rubbed his hand down his face and sighed.

“At least it wasn’t a moose. ” 

They started walking again, though this time paying closer attention to their surroundings.

“ I fail to see how it would have been more of a problem. ”

Kid, no. Please don’t fight a moose. 

“You don't provoke a moose, that’s just stupid. ” 

An haughty air crossed the Brat's face. 

“Tt. They do not intimidate me. Nor would they affect Father. ” 

He snorted. 

“Thank god for that.” 

Damian's brow furrowed. 

“Do explain.” 

“ Last time an animal scared Bruce...” he tried to keep down a laugh, a picture painting itself in his head. “ Well, let's just say it had some long lasting consequences on the world. ” 

The kid mouthed “Long lasting consequences?” before comprehension visibly dawned on him.

“Father is... scared of bats? ” 

Jason tried to stay serious, he really did. 

His good resolution lasted about five seconds. 

“The Mooseman! Striking fear in the heart of criminals all over the world.”

“Not as much as your lack of imagination when it comes to monikers. ” 

“Because Batman's so much better ? ” 

“I have no wish to be part of a duo named Mooseman and Robin.” He had an half-horrified half-amused look on his face.

“At least you’d work during the day.” A pause. “ At night, you’d probably be out on the Manor's grounds, researching on the Moosecomputer. ” 

“That sounds ridiculous.” His smirk was slowly growing larger. 

“ Moose Wayne. Crime fighter extraordinaire. ” 

“Do refrain from inflicting that frankly disturbing imagery on me. ” 

“Oh, god. His cowl would have antlers wouldn’t it ? ” 

 

––––––––

 

“ You, know, we got pretty lucky. My last bearial did not end anywhere near this peacefully.” 

“Please also spare me your sense of humour.”

 

–––––––– 

 

In the afternoon, they made good progress. The area they were in was less affected by the storm than the one they had walked through that morning, the lack of necessary detours allowing them to cover more ground. They spent most of their time zigzagging through trees and bushes, walking down the gentle slope that would hopefully lead them to the town. 

Damian seemed pretty sure of his sense of direction anyway. 

So far, he had managed to keep all injuries and various wildlife adoptions to a strict minimum. Despite a close encounter with a very cute squirrel. 

Jason was maybe feeling a tiny bit proud of himself. 

So, of course, the Universe decided to take him down a notch. Literally. 

A rock came loose under his foot. He tried to catch himself on a nearby branch, but the mud made him lose his footing before he could. He felt himself hit the ground. 

The slope wasn’t so gentle when you were rolling down on it.

“Todd! ”

He came to a stop what felt like an hour later, face down, near a small stream. 

Maybe he could just stay there for a few minutes. He was kinda comfortable. If he ignored the embarrassment and the thousands scraps and bruises he could feel developing all over his body. Still, it sounded like a better alternative than getting up and facing everything. 

Here lies Jason Todd. He, quite like his life, went downhill. 

A small hand tried to feel for his pulse and Jason batted it away, rolling over with a groan. 

“I’m fine, I'm fine.” 

He looked up to see Damian's furious face towering over his. It really was scary how alike he and Bruce could be sometimes. 

“I had thought someone trained by Father would not be so incompetent as to be defeated by a mere rock. ” a sneer “ I guess I was wrong. ” 

Ouch. Jason scoured his brain for a retort. 

“Superman can be defeated by a rock. I don’t see you insulting him.” 

Not his best work. Too whiny. Then again he was still stunned from the fall. He deserved a break. 

“Are you hurt ?” 

Aw, the kid actually sounded worried. 

“Just my pride. ” 

Damian hummed, starting a quick medical check. 

“ That does not worry me. It has proved itself to be quite resilient.” 

That was surprisingly mellow for him. 

“I’m going to take that as a compliment. ” 

“ Otherwise, it would have died long ago. When you tragically lost your self respect and your common sense. ” 

Aaaand, there it was. 

“ And, while I do realise I called you porcine yesterday evening, I did not think you'd take the definition so seriously. Or is a dirt bath your solution to the mosquito problem? ”

The little shit was asking for it. He was going to wipe the smirk right off that smug face. 

“I don't know, why don’t you tell me ? ” 

Jason grabbed his shirt and dunked him face first in the mud. He scooped up some dirt and leaves and rubbed it in the kid's hair for good measure. 

He then got up, cackling and started making a quick and wise retreat. 

A furious war cry sounded behind him and a heavy weight hit his back a few seconds later. 

They both went sprawling in the water.

It was a good hour before they retrieved their bags and started walking again. 

 

–––––––

 

They stopped at nightfall to make camp. The lights of the town they needed to get to were visible in they valley below them, tiny webs of lights breaking through the surrounding darkness. It looked like the myriad of stars above them were being reflected on the earth below. 

Jason was pretty optimistic about managing to catch their train. 

They were both complete messes, covered in leaves, hair sticking up in every direction and clothes in a state that would have made Alfred practically weep. If Alfred was the type of man to allow anything to discourage him, that was. 

Damian actually looked his age for once. His eyes were shining with a kind of peace Jason hadn’t seen in him very often, before. 

He threw a towel at the kid's head. 

“Come on, Brat. You came here to train didn’t you ? ” 

Damian's eyes lit up even brighter, a predatory grin making its way onto his face. The shadows cast by their small lantern adding to the creepy expression. 

Jason uncovered his teeth right back. 

“Loser gets to dig the latrine.” 

 

––––––– 

 

He was pretty sure Damian was having a nightmare. A bad one. 

Every few seconds, he would flinch. It wasn’t very noticeable. He wasn’t screaming or anything. But it was almost worse. Even in sleep, he looked like his heart was being ripped out of chest. Slowly. His hands were clenching and unclenching rhythmically. 

Jason was no stranger to PTSD-induced nightmares. 

He knew it was better to let the person get through it without waking them.

A minute later, Damian jerked up with a small gasp that quickly died on his lips. His hands were clutching the blanket so tightly he looked like it was about to rip.

He gave him some time to adjust. Startling someone when they were half asleep was usually even worse than when they were fully asleep. After a minute or two, he began humming the silliest pop-song he could think of. Once he was sure the kid wouldn’t be startled, he spoke. 

“Want me to call Dick ? ”

Damian was hunched on himself, like he was expecting to be mocked or punished for showing weakness. 

“I do not require anything, Todd. Good night. ” 

“Well, I need to call him anyway, so you might as well talk to him.” 

“Why?” 

“Why what ? ”

“Why would you need to call him? He bemoanes your lack of communication often enough in my presence for me to know that you usually do not. ” 

Dick did? 

“ To update him on our progress.”

“It is four am in Gotham. ” 

Cheerfully. “So? He's Nightwing, he goes to sleep later than that. ”

Not giving the kid an opportunity to refuse, he took out his phone and dialled. 

A very sleepy “Yes?” answered him a few rings later. 

“Hiya, Dickie. ” 

Dick sounded instantly more alert. 

“Jay? Is something wrong ? ” 

Maybe he should call more often. 

“Nah. Just thought you might want to hear how Damian was doing. ” 

“I always want to hear how the both of you are doing, Jay.” 

Not touching that one with a ten foot pole. 

“Right. ” he cleared his throat. “ Anyway, we're on schedule, should be back in Gotham in about three days. I'm going to give the phone to the brat, he'll update you. Bye. ” 

He thrust the phone at Damian. There. Mission accomplished. Emotional needs taken care of, without hurting anyone’s pride. 

“Grayson. ” 

Jason rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. 

“I am well. How are y– _things_ in Gotham? ” 

Cute.

They talked for nearly twenty minutes, the tension audibly draining from Damian’s voice the longer the conversation went on. He was slowly starting to drift again when the subject changed from what appeared to be the daily life of Wayne Manor’s inhabitants to something more interesting. 

“As Todd told you yesterday, we are getting ice-cream. (...) Yes, I am quite serious. (...)There are many flavours to choose from, Grayson, of course it takes time. ” 

Jason almost felt proud.

“ Father. ” 

Jason suddenly felt way less proud. He turned to stare at Damian, more awake than he had been three minutes previously. 

“ Yes Father. (...) Good night to you as well. ” 

He was presented with the phone. He took it gingerly. He did not need a lecture or to be subjected to Bruce's suspicions right now.

“Hello? ” 

“ Jason. ” 

There was a beat of awkward silence. Bruce didn’t seem inclined to actually finish sentences like an human being. 

“Erm, yes ? ” 

“Are you both okay ? ” 

“Fine?” 

“Is that a question or an answer ? ” 

Well, I don’t know, am I being interrogated or are we having a damned conversation on the phone? 

Jason suddenly felt very tired and empty. 

“ Damian's in perfect health, don't worry. I didn’t hurt him or kidnap him or anything. ” 

There was maybe a tad too much bitterness in his voice. He got up and walked some of the tension away. 

“That is not what I asked. ” 

“Isn’t it ? ” 

“No. I already spoke to Damian. ” Oh, good to know it was still Bruce's first guess. “And I trust your judgement, or I would already be here. ” Lovely. “ Are _you_ okay? ” 

“Why ? ” 

There was a frustrated exhale on the other end. 

“Because no matter what you think, I love you Jason. ” What? “ And as good as you _both_ are –” Reiterating: what ? “ at what we do, you're out there without backup and I don’t have a single explanation as to why. ” 

He felt some of the emptiness ebb away. When he answered, his voice was smaller than usual. 

“We’re both fine. There’s nothing bad going on. ” 

“Good. How did you crash my plane? ” 

There went his hopes of replacing it before Bruce noticed. 

Not that he had many in the first place. 

“I didn’t? ” 

“Please tell me Damian wasn’t the one piloting it.”

“What? No! What kind of question is that?” 

“ A legitimate one. What are you two doing? ” 

“Getting ice-cream.”

He had dug his grave and he would lie in it. Proudly. 

“Very funny. ” He did not sound amused. He didn’t sound angry either, though. “ I'll find out. When are you coming back? ” 

They had spent part of the evening after training looking up Vancouver-Gotham flights, then booking one. 

“ Our flight's on Wednesday.” 

“I’ll come get you at the airport. Call if you need anything. ” 

“Okay?” 

“Good night, Jay. ”

“Night.” 

Had he just had a civil conversation with Bruce ? We’ll, it was still more of an interrogation than anything, but still. There had been no shouting or bitter reproaches.

He could hear the phone changing hands on the other side, before Dick's voice filled his ear again. 

“For what it's worth, the fact that he's hasn’t dragged you back yet really does mean that he isn’t worried. For you or for Damian. ” 

“Right. ” 

“It does! He believes you on the no-danger part. And he's even allowing you two to keep your secrets for the time being. For him, that’s a big show of trust. ” 

“He’s investigating it.” 

Dick snorted. 

“Obviously. We all are. But it's more out of curiosity than anything. ” 

“Good luck with that. ” 

“Oh, come on, tell me! Steph has even started a betting pool, you know? ”

“Maybe I should call her then. ” 

“You’re an ass. But please do, she and Cassie both miss you. ” 

“Night, Dick. ” 

“Love you, Little Wing. Say goodnight to Dami for me.” 

He hung up. 

Jason went back to sleep, feeling way warmer than he had an hour before. 

 

–––––––

 

The following morning found them in the wonderful world of civilisation with its lovely, much missed in the last two days, hygiene facilities. 

Just because they could get by didn’t mean washing with a water bottle was comfortable. 

Taking the state of their clothes in consideration, they went shopping. They bought a few things, even though the town only had obnoxious souvenirs shops. 

Jason bought Damian a dark green t-shirt with a white inscription that said “Infuriating and prone to wandering ”. 

Damian retaliated by buying him a black one that said “I’m not sure how I survived to my twenties. Someone somewhere must have lost a bet. ”, with a little drawing of a bear's print. 

He gleefully put it on. 

They went for a meal in town before boarding the train. The kid seemed intent on keeping his promise for the most part. 

Good. 

Maybe he'd stick around for a bit, make sure the issue was solved. Talk to Alfred about it. Better to have another pair of eyes. One that wouldn’t be prompt to overreacting. 

Not the rest of the family, though. He also had a promise to keep. 

Their train journey was long and largely uneventful. Damian spent most of it quietly listening to his headphones and painting with watercolours in a small notebook. 

Jason settled down with a book that had caught his eye in the town's small bookshop. 

Neither of them had any nightmares that night. It was a welcomed change.

They arrived in Vancouver late Monday night. 

They were rushing out of the train as soon as it entered the station, the past day's lack of physical activity grating on their nerves. 

Another training session –this one involving more rooftops chases than combat training – took care of that. 

They also managed to stop two muggings before coming back to their hotel, all the while bickering over the following day's schedule. 

Jason could get used to this. 

Even if the little shit was dead wrong in his assumption that they would not be going to the city's best bookstore the following day. They would. 

(They didn’t) 

Art galleries still had nothing on books, though. 

Then, it was already Wednesday and they had to get up at ass o'clock in the morning to get to the airport on time. 

The barista in charge of serving them coffee – Alex, if his name tag was to be believed– in the airport coffee shop was an overly enthusiastic and well-meaning, chatty young man that was thrilled to learn that they were Gothamites. He was working on a paper on the impact important public figures had on the daily life of Gotham’s ordinary citizens and wanted an insider's opinion. 

He seemed a bit freaked out at how big their shit eating grins had gotten, at first, but quickly rallied. 

His questions were pretty interesting, too. 

About fifteen minutes in the conversation, he leaned in close and asked them in a hushed voice, eyes bright. 

“ You guys ever seen the Red Hood up close?”

Damian's face was a perfect picture of innocence as he stared straight into Jason's eyes. 

“I have not.” 

They both smiled angelically at him. 

Jason refrained from snickering as he took another sip of his drink. They got another few minutes of peaceful conversation before a loud, energetic and cheery voice echoed behind them.

“ Ah. Jason, Damian, there you two are! ” 

They froze. 

Brucie Wayne was standing behind them in all his thousand-dollars suit and pearly white teeth glory, Cass following closely behind him. 

Jason pasted on a bland smile even as an Armani clad arm draped itself over his shoulder, then over Damian’s. The barista looked like he was about to faint. 

“Finally! We've been looking for you two everywhere! ” Damn but fake-Bruce could be creepy when you were used to the original. He gave them a quick once over and asked for some sort of sugary abomination. He then glanced questioningly at Cassandra. 

She chose hot chocolate, sliding in the seat next to Jason. 

“Hello, Father. ” Damian greeted.

Bruce nodded at him, and sat down.

“You know, when you said 'I'll see you at the airport', I, like a normal person, thought you meant Gotham International. Not that you’d waste hundreds of dollars and hours of your time.” He deadpanned.

“Now, now, where's the fun in that ? ” a blinding white smile. “I had to make sure you both made it safely home! ” The end of that sentence was accompanied by a hand ruffling through the youngest Wayne's hair. 

(Said youngest looked long-suffering.)

Had to make sure Jason couldn’t run when he came to interrogate them, more like. 

Well, joke on him. Jason didn't care about public appearances and would not hesitate to punch Bruce in his dumb face if it meant escaping safely. 

Cass' arm looped around his and squeezed. 

Shit.

He sent his sister a betrayed look and glanced longingly at the coffee shop's door.

It suddenly seemed very far away.

She shook her head, an amused glint dancing in her eyes. 

Bruce leaned back in his chair and smirked. It was the kind of smirk that would have looked right at home on Luthor's face.

Smug bastard. 

There was a beat of silence as their drinks arrived. 

Bruce was the one to break it, stirring his coffee slowly and methodically.

“ So...how was your trip, boys? Had fun? ” 

Damian was the first one who answered. 

“We did, thank you. ” He sent a warning glance to Jason. 

Ha. Like he would blab to Bruce, of all people. Fat chance. 

Cass was looking around at the table's occupants like she was watching a particularly enjoyable reality show. 

The Batman leaned forward, sharp intelligence peeking behind the airheaded billionaire facade. 

“Oh, come one! We haven’t seen each other in a week. You must have so many stories to tell! ” 

He was not asking. 

Not knowing and no way to learn. The Bat's worst nightmare. 

A stray thought flitted through Jason's mind and he felt a smile slowly start growing without his permission. 

His younger brother sent a questioning look his way. 

He mouthed “Mooseman” in response.

Damian hiccupped out an unintentional laugh, and sent an horrified glance his father's way.

They both lost it. 

When they looked up again, red cheeked and trying to breathe normally again; all demanding attitude had bled out of Bruce. He had a weird fond look on his face that Jason hadn’t seen in years. One that brought back bittersweet memories.

He tentatively smiled at the older man. 

He got a smile back. 

Cass kissed his cheek. 

“Good job, little brother.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you thought ! 
> 
> My Tumblr's open to anyone who wants to cry with me about the Batfam (or anything else, really ) : aaren07.tumblr.com


End file.
